Regency Cafe, London - and a walk through Pimlico & Chelsea

A gem in Pimlico...suggested to us a couple years ago by our young friends from Australia. Truth be told, we expected the Regency to be posh, but surprise! surprise!  It's a classic cafe unchanged by time and fashion from it's original look of 1946.

Red-checked cafe curtains provide the colour theme, and the shiny tile walls provide the backdrop for a gallery of iconic cafe art and framed moments-of-acclaim for the Regency Cafe -- ads from Vogue and LK Bennett highlighting the cafe and numerous notable personalities enjoying their cuppa in front of the red-checked curtains. 

This is definitely a favourite London spot for photo shoots.  And a favourite spot for breakfast!  The queue snakes through the cafe packed with tables for 50.  This morning it's an all-male clientèle, many donned in business attire, others sporting reflector vests.

46-year-old owner, Marco Shiavetta serves a tasty meal -- no extra grease, everything cooked just right.  The day's fresh potatos are being peeled and piled by a diligent worker behind the counter.  Another focuses on the task of smacking minced beef into sausages and patties.

 Happy Husband enjoys the Full English Breakfast, while I stick to my standard -- 2 eggs on toast.  We welcome the absence of background music and TV, but the megaphone-voice from behind the counter calling out the orders (no table service) takes a bit of getting used to.

After our leisurely meal, we meander through Pimlico -- passing picturesque strips of terrace housing and overarching trees.

To our delight, we discover a gem in St James the Less church, hidden behind other buildings.  The ornate chancel glows in the morning light.  Musical instruments create a crucified Jesus -- clarinets, piano keys, flutes -- the death of music and joy, perhaps?  Makes me want to shake educators reminding them how important music is for children!  Don't eliminate joy from the curriculum!
To one side, there's an inviting children's area, a place children surely anticipate populating on a Sunday morning.  Just how welcoming are our churches to children? to families?  Where is their space in the church to which they clamour with glee?

On we go toward Royal Chelsea Hospital, the last resting place of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and home to retired soldiers. They are gathering for a VE Day photo decked out in full regalia.

My thoughts go to my father, an American Vet about the same age as many of those assembled here today.  While the cronies in his photos are Veterans for Peace, nonetheless he would have enjoyed being here today.





We pop into their chapel and dining room for a quick peek -- magnificent, as one might expect.  Amazing to realize that the retired men and women who call this home are here out of need, not out of entitlement.

London never lets us down!  Another wonderful Breakfast in Britain!

Even in Windsor!

"Where can we find a cafe for eggs and toast?"  we ask the proprietor of the news agent.
"Not in Windsor," comes the confident reply.

Here we are in the small town of Windsor, in the shadow of Windsor Castle, residence of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth.  We have been walking up and down the streets glancing in the windows of posh hat and shoe shops.
With Ascot race track only 15 minutes away, hats fill the shops -- finely woven straw creations in rainbow brilliance dangle price tags up to £190.  At Daniel's, a milliner "by appointment of the Queen," feathery fascinators (a headpiece connected to a thin headband), many at £95, line a wall.  But when it comes to a greasy spoon for breakfast..."Not in Windsor" is the verdict.

Ah, but luck will have it...we spot a construction worker in a bright yellow reflector vest.  Bingo! "People head to the Bite Cafe," he explains, and we are directed a bit beyond the beaten track.

Happy Husband enjoys a full English breakfast.No complaints -- and the mug of tea comes hot.  Movable chairs and wooden tables keep the decor nearing posh, suitable for the Queen's local diner. Bright art work on a Mexican theme provides bursts of colour throughout.

This being our second trip to Windsor this year, the train trip from London's Paddington Station seems almost routine.  While I love visiting a new place, I also appreciate the familiarity of a repeat visit (especially when there's a re-usable entry ticket). Originally we came on New Year's Day -- best day to see a castle (if it's open) as tourists are few and locals are at home.  No queues. No school groups.  This visit we're accompanying hundreds more visitors, but not like the busy-ness one might expect in the summer.

And then of course there is the castle -- the real McCoy -- high on the hill.  Enshrined within are the tombs of Henry VIII and his favoured wife, Jane Seymour, the memorial chapel for the recently deceased Queen Mother and Queen Mary's dollhouse.

My sister-in-law has urged me to visit, knowing my interest in miniatures and dollhouses.  Queen Mary's dollhouse far supasses my expectations: even the wine in the tiny bottles is real!  Everything is in working order, gifts from the manufacturers, inventors and promoters.  Impressive.  My father would have loved the cars in the garage -- a row of them!

Windsor Castle was never bombed in WW2, protected -- so the story goes-- by Hitler's desire to claim it as his own and his plan to move in and set up house after his victory.

This visit we not only enjoy the view from the castle but head down to the river, and cross for a walk though Eton, the home of Eton College. Shops offer school ties and blazers, and dashing suits for that weekend visit to Aunt Fiona's.

Daffodils colour the fields.

There's time for a leisurely stroll around the college perimeter along the river, and finally a cup of tea at the riverside before our evening train back to London.

Another breakfast only Britain could provide.  Another amazing Breakfast in Britain.

Portslade Station Cafe -- near the Channel seaside at Hove

Up at 5:00 am and out the door at 5:30 heading south to the English Channel. Around the edge of London on the M25, then south toward Brighton.  We're heading to Hove, just west of Brighton where Happy Husband's favourite plastic model shop is closing down -- hoping for some sales.  We've enjoyed Linda's Cafe on the waterfront before, but today we search out a new watering hole.

We discover the Station Cafe at Portslade Station, having opened at 7:00, five minutes before our arrival.  It's light and warm inside on this brisk winter morning.  A couple pensioners are already enjoying their mugs of hot tea.  By 7:30 every table is taken. 

We split the Number 7 Full Breakfast -- two of everything and beans for Happy Husband.  The Christmas decor enhances the old photos of Portslade hanging on the wall. A classic am radio carries music from the 1980's into the dining room.  The husband and wife team have been cooking breakfasts here for 10 years.

Sated, we head out.  The Portslade Railway Station sits across the street.  As I take a photo, a work crew in a fluorescent lorry query what I could possibly find of interest to take pictures of.  So I take their photo, too.

We enjoy numerous charity shops and, naturally, the sea.  We find several re-gift items for Christmas -- treasures of Merino wool and a year's worth of Sudokus  (don't tell Happy Husband until after Christmas!)

Another wonderful Breakfast in Britain.